I’m a new follower. I loved this poem. I’m an Italian sixty-seven year-old who grew up in the Sates (New York) in the 1950s and 1960s. In 1971 I left and went to England with my new English husband. The poem brought back so many memories – of Italian names mangled by people who refused to get them right as a – hopefully, at times at least, an unconscious – form of discrimination. It brought back memories of all the ethnic minorities who were discriminated against (native American Indians/ African Americans, to begin with) and their cultures nigh destroyed all in the name of so-called progress. A truly powerful poem!

Thank you so much, Antonia, for reading and for this comment! It’s still so frustrating to know how how those names continue to be so carelessly mangled. I can only imagine how anti-Italian sentiments were at that time in the States, to see how these processes of refusing to honour names – or even to make an effort – continue to this day.